


I've Got You

by shimmertrapped



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Healing, Healthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24261973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimmertrapped/pseuds/shimmertrapped
Summary: After being rescued from an unknown enemy, (Y/N) and Stiles grow closer whilst dealing with trauma and a lingering threat.  (post-high school AU where Scott, Allison, Stiles, and (Y/N) are roommates.)
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine got me reverting to my Teen Wolf obsessed days so here is a fic i’ve been working on for fun! my main focus is the characters so please excuse any vague/inconsistent plot details lol.

Stiles hovered behind Scott, watching as his friend threw their foe against the far wall. Scott looked over his shoulder at Stiles, fangs bared, and said, _"Go find her, Stiles! I’ll take care of him!"_

That was all the permission Stiles needed. He simply nodded before tearing off down the hallway behind them.

The walls that blurred past him were barren. His target lay straight ahead - an imposing metal door at the end of the long hall. Stiles winced as the slash he had received in his shoulder blade stretched with his movements, but he did not slow.

He reached the door in no time and skidded to a stop, fishing inside his pocket for the key ring he had swiped earlier. He glanced from the heavy-looking lock on the door handle in front of him to the keys in his hand and attempted to choose one that looked like it might fit. 

Hands shaking furiously, Stiles shoved the key into the lock, but when he tried to twist it, he was met with resistance. Cursing, he selected a second key. Same result.

“Come on," he said, picking a third key and willing it to work.

It did.

Relief like he’d never known washed over him as the key turned seamlessly, the insides of the lock tumbling before it opened with a satisfying _click._

Stiles slammed the handle down and shoved his whole body into the door, practically falling into the room as it opened.

And there she was. She was standing, body braced as if she were prepared for someone other than him to enter. Her long hair was limp and her skin was wan but it was _her_ and she was _alive._

Her legs nearly gave in as she breathed, _"Stiles."_

“(Y/N)!” Stiles rushed forward, grabbing her by the elbows to steady her. He helped lower her to the ground and kneeled in front of her. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

She seemed to look right through him, her gaze unfocused.

Stiles, still grasping her limp, bare arms, assessed her for any sign of injury. He swallowed down the building lump in his throat. “Are you hurt? Are you - ?”

“No,” (Y/N) said, her voice distant.

“Okay, hang on, I’m going to get this off you,” He said, grabbing for the lock on the chain around her ankle, his stomach roiling at the sight of it.

“Are you real?”

Stiles’ attention snapped back to (Y/N)’s eyes then, and his heart broke in his chest at the hopelessness and disbelief he found there, heard in her question. 

“Yes,” Stiles said hurriedly. He lowered himself so they were directly face-to-face. “Yes, look at me, I’m right here. Scott and Allison too. We’re gonna get you out of here. You’re safe.”

When he saw her nod weakly, he hunched back down to survey the ring of keys in his hand once more. 

“Your shoulder...” (Y/N)’s voice came out as barely more than a whisper. “It’s bleeding.”

Stiles glanced back at himself and indeed saw where his hoodie had torn, revealing a bloodied gash beneath. He turned back around. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He managed to successfully undo the lock on the first try this time and then, as gently as he could, he slid the shackle from her ankle, tamping down the rage that flared inside of him at the sight of it and the raw, red skin it left in its wake.

Stiles looked back up at (Y/N). “All right, are you ready? Are you okay to walk?”

(Y/N) nodded again, and Stiles hoped he wasn’t imagining that her eyes seemed clearer now, more present.

“Here,” He extended his right arm to her. (Y/N) wrapped her fingers around it and allowed him to raise them both back up to their feet. 

And then together, they fled without another look back at the wretched room behind them.

*

“(Y/N)!” Allison cried as they approached the jeep parked behind the decrepit building. She embraced her cousin, tears springing from her eyes.

They stayed like that for some time, (Y/N)’s face stark against Allison’s dark hair. Stiles watched them, overjoyed to see the two reunited, but simultaneously unable to help but wish _he_ were the one holding (Y/N). His heart stuttered however when her eyes fluttered open and fell on Stiles’.

But the moment was over before it had started as Scott, too, appeared from around a corner. He spotted them.

“(Y/N), thank God!” He ran over, stopping next to Allison, who finally stepped away from her cousin, but still held onto her hand. 

Scott caught Stiles’ eye then and gave him a grim look. They needed to get out of here. Stiles cast a wary glance behind them. “Guys, we should go.”

“Right,” Allison said. Then, to (Y/N), “Come on, let’s get you in the car.”

The four of them headed for the jeep, Stiles jogging ahead to open the rear passenger seat door. Allison led (Y/N), who moved slowly but without any sign of a limp, or worse. She winced however when she went to step up from the foot hold to get into the jeep's elevated seats. She wavered slightly, but Stiles was there in an instant to grab onto her elbows once again. “Woah, I've got you.”

He helped her up and stayed close as she slid into the seat, buckling herself in as Allison moved to climb in next to her. When he saw that they were settled, Stiles shut the door and walked around the jeep to get in on the driver’s side, Scott already in the seat to his right.

The four of them drove away in near silence, Stiles’ eyes darting to the rearview mirror to glance at the girl on the passenger’s side the entire way home.

*

That night, (Y/N)’s body felt alien to her as she sat in her fresh clothes, unused now to the soft fabric and scent of laundry detergent. The chair she sat in was off, too. Too plush. In so short a time, she had forgotten how it felt to be comfortable.

“Here you go,” Allison returned then, setting down a steaming mug of tea on the kitchen table in front of (Y/N) before sitting in the chair opposite her.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) said, wrapping her hands around the warm cup. The sensation grounded her.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Her cousin asked her for the third time since returning home.

(Y/N) nodded. “He never physically harmed me.”

Allison’s eyes were grave as the unsaid meaning hung in the air around them. No, her captor hadn’t laid a finger on her. Rather, he seemed to draw his gratification from the psychological damage he inflicted on his victims. The isolation, the deprivation...

It was why when Stiles had barged through the door, like an angel with the light of the fluorescent bulbs of the hallway surrounding him, (Y/N) hadn’t been sure whether she had fallen asleep without realizing and was dreaming, or was awake and hallucinating. Because she _had_ begun to hallucinate. After... Well, she had lost track of the days early on, but at some point during her captivity. She hadn’t wanted to believe it was really him, only to have her hopes shredded when she came to and found herself alone again.

Especially because in the few times where she hadn’t been trying to escape and instead allowed herself to simply wallow, it had been him she thought of. Stiles and his constant jokes; his warm, amber eyes... It had helped her through the darkest moments. She had desperately clung to the memory of his face, terrified to forget it because at times she truly believed she might never -

(Y/N) forced herself to snap back to the present. She was here, in the house that she had been living with Allison, Scott, and Stiles for the past seven months. She raised her mug to her mouth and took a sip, allowing the warmth of the tea to soothe her thoughts as it coursed through her.

“I still think we should get you checked up,” Allison frowned. “But I guess we can go tomorrow.”

(Y/N) didn’t bother arguing. She knew if the roles were reversed she would likely insist the same. Instead, she finally asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue for the past few hours. “Allison, how did you guys find me?”

"Well, we had Scott along with Derek's whole pack searching the entire city for your scent... But we came up short.” Allison said, shame clear on her face. But then her expression grew thoughtful as she set her mug down. “It was Stiles, really.”

(Y/N) sat up a little at that. “Stiles?”

Allison turned somber again. “We were all working overtime trying to find you, but Stiles... I don’t think he slept all week. Somehow, he found a way to decrypt the IP address of the e-mail Scott received, and he stayed locked up in his room until last night when he finally managed to crack it.”

(Y/N) stared down at the table, her mind whirring with mingling feelings of overwhelming gratitude and guilt. 

She looked back up however when Allison reached across the table to place her hand over (Y/N)’s. As if reading her mind, her cousin said, “I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty. _Never_ feel that way. I just thought you should know. I think he really -”

Allison didn’t get to finish her sentence however as at that moment, Scott and Stiles came through the front door, returning from their meeting with Sheriff Stilinski. Scott came to stand next to Allison, placing a hand on her shoulder, Stiles trailing behind. (Y/N) stared into her swirling tea.

“How'd it go?” Allison asked, looking up at them.

"We filled him in," Scott said. Then he looked to (Y/N), his face apologetic. “You’re going to have to make a statement.”

“But it doesn’t have to be right away,” Stiles rushed to say.

“Of course,” Scott said.

A phone buzzed then, and Scott reached into his jacket. He glanced down at the screen and swore. They all looked to him in alarm.

“What is it?” Allison asked.

“It’s Derek,” Scott said. “Allison - he needs our help.”

“Both of us?” Allison’s eyes darted to (Y/N).

Scott seemed hesitant to give any more details, but his eyes conveyed the urgency.

“Will you be alright?” Allison asked, turning to (Y/N). 

She could feel all three of them watching her.

“Go,” (Y/N) said. “Derek wouldn’t ask if it wasn't necessary.”

Allison pursed her lips. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. If you need _anything,_ call me.”

(Y/N) looked to Scott and saw an internal battle - him not wanting to rush Allison away at such a sensitive time, but also knowing they were racing a ticking clock against whatever or _who_ ever Derek was up against.

“Go,” (Y/N) repeated. Then she glanced at Stiles, who she found was already looking at her. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Allison said, then again, more to herself, “Okay. Let’s go.”

Scott looked relieved but said, “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“Good luck, guys,” Stiles said.

With that, Scott and Allison hurried out the door, pulling their jackets on as they went. And then it was just (Y/N) and Stiles. A memory came back to (Y/N) at that moment and her eyes widened. She blinked up at Stiles. “Your shoulder - did you get it patched up?”

Stiles waved a hand nonchalantly. “Yeah, it was nothing. I’m fine.”

(Y/N) peered at him, skeptical. And then, as he took a step forward into the light, she saw the dark shadows under his eyes. She frowned. “You look exhausted.”

Stiles ran a hand through his messy dark hair. He said, seemingly reluctantly, “I guess I could sleep.”

(Y/N) sighed. “Me too.”

Stiles gave her a resigned look before nodding behind him. “C’mon, let’s head up.”

*

When Stiles finished brushing his teeth, he stepped into the hallway where he could see (Y/N)’s door open, two rooms down from his. He approached it and knocked twice on the doorframe. (Y/N) looked up from where she sat cross-legged on the bed above the covers, wearing the soft-looking grey shirt and black cropped leggings she had changed into after showering earlier.

“Hey, just checking if you need anything,” Stiles said, stepping just into the room. “Do you have enough blankets? Or -”

“I think I’m good,” (Y/N) said, and Stiles couldn’t quite read her expression. “Thanks, Stiles.”

“All right,” he said, bracing his forearm on the doorframe, desperately trying to think of the right thing to say to prolong his stay in her presence. But he drew a blank, and so settled on saying, “If you need anything just shout. Or shoot me a text if you’re too worn-out to shout.”

Stiles thought he spied the ghost of a smile playing around the corners of (Y/N)'s mouth, but it didn’t quite get there. Not yet. Instead she just said, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Stiles repeated. “Try to get some rest.”

He stood there for a beat, and then finally turned to leave.

“Stiles?”

He stopped in his tracks. “Yeah?”

When he turned back to (Y/N), her cheeks were pink. She glanced down at her hands, gripping the bedding, and her blush deepened as she said, “Could you stay?”

Stiles forgot how to speak.

(Y/N) looked up at him when he didn’t answer, and she sounded so vulnerable, so haunted when she whispered, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Stiles swallowed, but his voice still cracked when he finally said, “O - Of course.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Thanks. You can have the couch if you want.”

Stiles nodded, still unable to look away from her. “Let me just go grab my things. I’ll be right back.”

He dashed out of the room and into the hallway. When he reached his own room, he scrambled to grab his phone charger, a water bottle, and a blanket from his bed. He left just as quickly as he had entered, however he had to whirl back around when he realized he didn't have his pillow. Then, arms full, he moved back into the hall, pausing halfway to (Y/N)’s room to calm himself down.

 _She needs moral support right now,_ he told himself. _You need to_ chill.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Stiles stepped back into (Y/N)'s room, awkwardly using his foot to close the door slightly behind him. He looked at (Y/N) over his pillow and gave her a little smile and nod in greeting. Then, he went to dump his stuff on the grey couch positioned against the wall next to her bed.

Stiles could feel her eyes on him as he hovered over the couch, debating which end to place his pillow at. He glanced towards (Y/N)’s bed and saw that her pillow was nearest the couch, so Stiles opted to place his on the opposite side to give her space.

“Sorry," (Y/N) said then, and Stiles could practically hear her wincing. "I just realized it's probably too short for you."

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Stiles said, eyeing the length of the couch which indeed looked like it would have his feet hanging off of it. He was second guessing his choice of pillow placement as he said, “I’ve slept on worse.”

“All right, if you’re sure...”

Stiles plopped himself down on the couch and looked over at (Y/N) who was hugging a pink throw pillow to her chest, a tiny furrow between her brows. His heart swelled. “I’m sure.”

(Y/N) gave a little nod and crawled over the end of her comforter to get under it. Stiles looked away, his own cheeks heating up at the intimacy of it all. He’d been in her room before, sure, but never just the two of them. Especially at night. In their pajamas.

He swallowed again. “Should I get the light?”

“Sure.”

He leaned across the couch to flip the light switch, shrouding the room in shadows. Feeling his way back down onto the couch, he spread his blanket over his legs. Then, he laid back, arms folded behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling, willing his pulse to _slow the hell down_. With the lights off, the sound of his heart beat seemed to amplify in his own head. He felt almost sure that (Y/N) could hear it too.

But she said nothing, and a few otherwise quiet minutes passed, until he heard (Y/N) let out a shaky breath. Her voice cut through the darkness. 

“Allison told me you were the one who tracked where I was. Stiles, I... I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough.”

Her voice broke on the last words.

Stiles rolled onto his side. “You don’t _ever_ need to thank me. Not finding you was never an option for us.”

What he really meant, and wanted to say, was ‘never an option for _me’_ , but he held back.

When (Y/N) didn’t respond, Stiles continued. “I know you would have done the same for any of us. I’m just glad you’re home.”

(Y/N)’s voice was thick when she replied, “Me too.”

“Try to get some sleep, okay?” Stiles said.

“Okay.”

But over the next few hours, Stiles could tell that she was awake as he was, tossing and turning every so often, until he finally managed to drift off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles woke to sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the white curtains across the room. Groggily, he opened his eyes and was confused for a moment as his mind worked to remember where he was. He glanced over the arm of the couch to find (Y/N)’s bed empty. His stomach dropped, and for a second he wasn’t sure whether yesterday had really happened, or if it had just been a dream that he was now having the horrible displeasure of waking up from. But at the sight of the fresh indent on her pillow where her head had rested, he calmed down a little. Still, he got up quickly, folded his blanket, and went to the restroom to freshen up before heading downstairs.

Relief fully set in as he caught sight of two pink slipper clad feet dangling from one of the stools at the kitchen island. (Y/N) was perched there, looking out the window, a glass of water in her hands. She didn’t appear to hear his approach so, voice still rough from sleep, Stiles said, “Morning.”

(Y/N) turned then, tucking a lock of her long hair behind her ear. “Morning.”

Stiles padded into the kitchen and noted dark circles under her eyes. “How did you sleep?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “All right. You?”

Stiles rolled his neck as he grabbed a glass for himself from the cupboard. “Not bad. The couch was surprisingly comfy.”

“Oh, good,” (Y/N) said from behind him as he went to the fridge to pour himself some orange juice. “Have you heard anything from Scott yet?”

“Hm,” Juice in hand, Stiles leaned against the counter and pulled his phone from the pocket of his plaid pajama pants. He tapped its glossy screen and frowned. No messages. “Not yet.”

He glanced over at (Y/N), whose face bore a concerned expression. “Allison hasn’t messaged me either.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Stiles said. “They probably just haven’t had a chance to text.”

(Y/N) nodded, looking as though she were trying to convince herself of that.

Stiles braced a hand on the counter and turned to her. "How 'bout I make us some breakfast, and if we still haven’t heard anything by then we can try calling them?”

(Y/N) considered this, and after a moment accepted his proposal. “All right.”

Stiles set his now empty glass down and moved back to the fridge. “What are you hungry for? We’ve got -”

His sentence cut off as he surveyed the contents of the fridge - or rather, the lack thereof. He supposed grocery shopping hadn’t exactly been their top priority this past week. Stiles scratched the back of his neck. “Err...”

“I think there’s some leftover pizza in the freezer.”

Stiles straightened and looked over his shoulder. “Really?”

"Mmhmm," (Y/N) said. “Unless someone ate it.”

Stiles turned back around and opened up the freezer. Sure enough, behind a bag of frozen corn sat a container of four slices of pizza. He spun around, holding it above his head and singing a note of triumph.

(Y/N) giggled.

And Stiles’ heart skipped a beat.

His arms lowered a fraction and he slid his gaze down from the container to see (Y/N) smiling up at him. It was the first time since bringing her home that he had heard her laugh or seen her crack a smile. Stiles felt the weight of the lingering anxiety from the past week lift slightly. 

He grinned back at her and approached the kitchen island, bringing the container down onto it.

“Now, the question is,” he began seriously. “What is your preferred method of reheating frozen pizza?”

  
  


“I’m good with just microwaving it,” (Y/N) said.

Stiles looked as though she had just insulted his great ancestors. Hand pressed against his chest, eyes wide, he said, “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t just hear you say that.”

Another involuntary laugh bubbled out of (Y/N), surprising even her. “Okay then tell me, oh wise one, what is the proper technique?”

Stiles held up a finger and bent down to rummage through the cabinet below the island. (Y/N) waited in amusement. After a brief moment, he popped back up, waving a frying pan in the air.

“Huh,” (Y/N) said, impressed. “I’ve actually never tried that.”

“Well then allow me to  _ blow your mind _ .”

(Y/N) waited patiently as Stiles went to the oven. He flicked a dial on the stovetop and slapped the pizza onto the skillet before placing a lid overtop of it. A sizzling sound filled the kitchen as Stiles fetched two plates, setting one down in front of (Y/N), and one at the spot to her left. After about five minutes, he returned to the stove, uncovered the skillet, and carried it over to where she sat.

“Which do you want?” he asked.

“I’ll take those two,” (Y/N) said, pointing to the smaller slices of pizza, leaving the larger two for Stiles.

Stiles obediently slid the pieces she had indicated onto their respective plates before going to set the pan back down on the stove top, turning the element off as he did. Then, he returned to the island and settled onto the stool beside her. He grabbed a slice of his pizza and held it up. “Cheers.”

(Y/N) smiled and raised her own slice to tap his. “Cheers.”

She studied the pizza. It certainly  _ looked _ good. She took a bite and her eyebrows raised in surprise. Indeed, it was perfectly heated through, the cheese sufficiently bubbly and the crust just crispy enough. Her eyes slid to Stiles as she chewed, and she found him watching her expectantly. (Y/N) covered her mouth as she half-coughed, half-laughed. She swallowed.

“Well?” Stiles asked.

“I mean, I don’t know if my mind is  _ blown _ , but...” she said. “It’s pretty damn good.”

Stiles grinned, cheeks full of food, as he banged a hand on the island top in celebration. He gulped down his food. “You’re welcome.”

(Y/N) shook her head, smiling, but then jumped at the sound of her phone vibrating on the marble countertop. She reached to unlock it.

**Allison:** Still on guard. Scott should have a chance to call in a bit.

Relief washing over her, (Y/N) showed the text to Stiles, who blew out a breath.

“Any idea what they’re doing?” (Y/N) asked him.

Stiles scratched behind his ear. “Derek got word a few days ago of another pack headed for Beacon Hills. It’s probably something to do with that. Nothing they can’t handle.”

Stiles stood and went to collect their plates, but (Y/N) reached to grab hers. “I’ll clean up, you made the food.”

“I heated up pizza,” Stiles brushed her off, taking the plate from her. “I got it, you just take it easy.”

“All right, thanks,” (Y/N) said in resignation as Stiles went to rinse the plates before placing them in the dishwasher.

“So listen,” he said as he grabbed the pan from the stove and began washing it in the sink. He paused, as if carefully considering his next words. “I don’t know if you want to talk about - what happened. But if you do, I’m here, okay?”

A flurry of images flashed through (Y/N)’s mind as clearly as if she were seeing them in real life. Trees blurring past her. The inside of a car trunk. Her own bloody fingernails.

(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut.

“(Y/N)?”

She opened them again to see Stiles staring at her, hands frozen mid-scrub on the skillet under the running water.

(Y/N) swallowed. “I... I don’t know what I want.”

Stiles' mouth pressed into a thin line. He set the skillet on the drying rack next to the sink. “I -”

An upbeat ringtone cut off his sentence as his phone lit up on the island in front of her. (Y/N) saw Scott’s name appear on the screen and Stiles lunged for it, hands still covered in soapy bubbles.

“Scott?” He said.

(Y/N) watched Stiles' face as he listened to their friend on the other line. His expression remained neutral.

“Okay,” Stiles said after a minute. “Be careful. Talk to you later.”

Stiles hung up and set the phone back down.

“What’s the word?” (Y/N) asked.

“Apparently the pack is larger than they thought,” Stiles said. “Derek’s going to need them to stay as reinforcements for now.”

“Is there anything we can do?” (Y/N) asked, though she was sure she already knew what the answer would be. (Y/N) mainly worked as a medic for the pack, and though Allison had been training her to use a crossbow over the past couple months, she was nowhere near skilled enough yet to be of much use. And Stiles mostly worked behind the scenes as well.

Stiles shook his head, confirming her assumption. “Scott says they’re not worried about it, they just need to make sure they have the numbers when the time comes.”

(Y/N) nodded, but chewed on her bottom lip as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Don't worry," Stiles said again, correctly interpreting her body language. "Scott didn't sound concerned at all. More annoyed, if anything."

In spite of herself, (Y/N) smirked. "Okay, I believe you."

Then she let out a yawn.

Stiles eyed her. "You sure you got another sleep?"

"Mmhmm," (Y/N) lied. "But maybe I'll go lie on the couch for a bit. Want to watch something?"


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles was lounging in his favourite spot on the floor, half leaning on the coffee table as he stared up at _Wheel of Fortune_ . (Y/N) had curled up on the couch behind him. There wasn't much on at eleven am on a Tuesday so they had settled for _Wheel,_ despite the fact that neither of them liked it much. They only usually sat through the end of it while waiting for _Jeopardy!_

Nevertheless, Stiles bit at his nails as he tried to solve the current puzzle. "Something something... Habits? Rabbits? What do you think?"

When (Y/N) didn't reply, Stiles glanced behind him to see her eyes shut, lips slightly parted as she breathed deeply.

" _Oh_ ," Stiles mouthed.

He slowly reached for the remote to turn the volume down.

"Stiles..." (Y/N)'s voice came from behind him then, barely audible even above the quiet tv.

Stiles turned back, about to apologize for waking her, but when he did, he saw that her eyes were still closed. His brow furrowed in confusion. Had he been hearing things?

But then, exactly as it had sounded a moment before, (Y/N) mumbled Stiles’ name again, and this time he saw her lips form the word before she rolled over onto her other side.

Stiles stayed put, frozen in bewilderment as he watched the slow rise and fall of her back. Allison had often teased (Y/N) about her sleep talking, but this was the first time Stiles had witnessed it for himself. What did it mean that she was saying his name? Was it just because he had been the last person she had spoken to while awake? Or was she... Dreaming about him?

Realizing that he was now just staring at her like a creep, Stiles turned back to face the tv. But although his eyes remained locked on the screen for the remainder of _Wheel of Fortune_ , he couldn't quite seem to focus on the puzzles anymore.

*

(Y/N) hadn't meant to fall asleep, but as soon as she had stretched out and rested her head on the worn arm of the couch, it hadn't taken long before she dozed off.

When her eyes opened sometime later, it was as if nothing had changed. Stiles was still hunched over the table in front of her, his arms splayed out across its surface. (Y/N) smiled. Then she asked, "What time is it?"

She saw Stiles jump slightly before turning his head slightly towards her. Then, he glanced down at his phone. "Just after two."

"Mm," she said, stretching out her legs and giving her toes a wiggle. She looked to the tv then and squinted at the screen. "Are you watching _Maury?_ "

"Uh," Stiles said, head back down on the table. "I guess so. I kinda spaced out."

(Y/N) chuckled, but then looked towards her own phone on the end table next to her head and saw a blinking light indicating an unread message. She quickly grabbed it and read the text.

"Allison says they're still just waiting," (Y/N) relayed to Stiles. "Apparently the other pack hasn't moved."

"Huh," Stiles said. "They must be waiting for someone on Derek's side to fold first."

"They're going to be waiting for a while," (Y/N) said. Then something caught her attention and her eyes widened in shock as she glanced down at Stiles' back where a splotch of deep red had bloomed across his white t-shirt. "Stiles - your back."

"Huh?" Stiles lifted his head off the table slightly. "I've been here the whole time."

"No," (Y/N) shook her head. "Your _back_. It's bleeding. I thought you said you took care of it?"

"Oh," Stiles said. He strained his neck to inspect things for himself. Then, " _Oh_. Well, I did, but you know, just a quick bandage job..."

(Y/N) sat upright, wide awake now. "You'd better let me take a look at it."

"I'm fine," Stiles said stubbornly. "Seriously, it barely hurts."

But (Y/N) could be stubborn too. "Come on."

She got up from the couch and stared down at Stiles with her hands on her hips.

He looked up at her, unmoving, for a solid ten seconds before finally caving. "Alright, alright."

(Y/N) led him to the kitchen table where he sat down as she went to retrieve a first aid kit from the nearest bathroom. When she returned, Stiles had removed his t-shirt and was sitting backwards on the chair, arms crossed over the back of it.

(Y/N) pulled up a seat behind him and took a closer look. Indeed, he had somehow managed to half-hazardly bandage himself up, but the gauze was now nearly completely soaked through with blood.

Gently as she could, (Y/N) peeled the bandage off and inhaled sharply as she took in the state of the wound that ran down his shoulder blade. She could tell he hadn't cleaned it out properly - pus seeped from its edges and dark, sticky blood still pooled within it. "Oh, Stiles."

"Is it bad?"

"It wouldn't have been if you'd let someone help you with it yesterday."

Stiles didn't say anything. (Y/N) opened up the kit and unscrewed a bottle of rubbing alcohol which she then poured onto a cotton pad. She raised it to the cut and paused. "This might sting "

Stiles' back tensed in anticipation. Not wanting to delay the unpleasant inevitable, (Y/N) dabbed the top of the gash with the alcohol soaked cotton. Stiles hissed at the contact, flinching away.

"I know," (Y/N) said, pausing. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Stiles said, teeth gritted. "Let's just get this over with."

So (Y/N) continued, working her way down the length of the wound, stopping only to get a fresh cotton pad. Once she was satisfied with the sterilization of the cut, she pulled out a roll each of gauze and medical tape. She then unspooled the gauze, measuring alongside the gash before cutting off a strip. Gently, she laid it over top of the wound and held it in place with the tips of her fingers as she reached for the tape.

"Here," she said, leaning forward to pass the roll to Stiles. "Cut me off a few pieces of this."

He took it, along with the pair of scissors, and did as she asked. Taking the strips he cut for her, (Y/N) secured the bandage.

"Okay, all done," she said.

She leaned back in her chair and Stiles straightened up. He twisted and stretched, testing out the job she had done, and (Y/N)'s cheeks burned as she watched the muscles in his back flex from the movement, his bare skin, dotted with numerous constellations of moles, pulling taut.

"That does feel a lot better," Stiles said. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," (Y/N) said quickly, getting up out of her seat.

She busied herself with packing up the supplies as Stiles stood too and pulled his shirt back over his head.

He frowned. "Actually, I should probably wash this. Be right back."

Only when he was gone and she heard the thudding sounds of him running up the stairs did (Y/N) realize how quickly her heart had been beating. She let out a long, steadying breath.

A few minutes later, she heard Stiles coming back down the stairs and turned to see first his feet, followed by the rest of his body, now sporting a black t-shirt, and holding his phone at his side. (Y/N)'s stomach dropped when his face came into view, his colour drained and his expression anguished.

"What is it?" She asked. "Scott and Allison - ?"

"No, no. I, uh - My dad just called," Stiles was staring blankly down at his phone. His throat bobbed as he looked up at (Y/N). "Apparently there was a message left at the station.”

(Y/N) blinked. "A message from - ?"

Stiles moved to join her in the kitchen and simply nodded. They both knew whom they were speaking of - her captor. Whoever he was.

(Y/N)'s arm reached behind her to grab hold of the back of her chair. She slowly lowered herself down. "What did it say?”

"It just said, ‘ _I’ll be back_ ’," Stiles looked as if relaying this information was causing him great pain.

An involuntary shiver ran down (Y/N)’s spine.

Stiles sighed heavily and leaned against the island in front of her. "My dad asked if you’d be up for making your statement now. You might know something that could help find him, or someone working with him."

(Y/N) had known this was coming. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," Stiles said, and he truly looked it.

(Y/N) blew out a breath. She felt surprisingly composed when she said, "It's okay. It's probably better if I just get it over with."

Stiles nodded. “I’ll let my dad know."


	4. Chapter 4

“I’ll make sure you only have to do this once, okay, (Y/N)?” Stiles’ dad said as he flipped open a lined, spiral notepad.

(Y/N) nodded, seated across the kitchen table from the sheriff.

His dad jerked his chin at Stiles who was leaning against the far wall. “Do you want him to leave?”

Stiles made a face at his dad but then looked to (Y/N). He actually didn’t know whether she would be more comfortable with or without him there.

“Um,” (Y/N) said. “No, I don’t mind if he stays.”

Stiles’ shoulders relaxed.

“Alright,” his dad said. Then he shot Stiles a stern look. “Just don’t interrupt.”

“Dad,” Stiles said, indignant. “I know.”

His dad held a hand up to silence Stiles, who rolled his eyes. Despite the circumstances, he thought he saw (Y/N) trying not to smile.

“Alright then,” His dad said, uncapping his pen. “Let’s begin. Where were you when you first encountered your captor?”

(Y/N) tucked her hair behind her ear. “I had just gotten off the train and was walking to the car from the station.”

“Whose car?”

“Stiles’ jeep. He was there to drop off Scott and pick me and Allison up.”

“Okay, and were you alone walking back to the car?”

“Yes. I let Allison have a moment with Scott before he caught his train, and Stiles had gone to use the restroom.”

“Alright,” Stiles’ dad adopted a gentle tone as he asked the next question. “Can you describe what happened next? Take as much time as you need.”

Stiles tried to watch (Y/N) solely from his peripheral vision, not wanting her to feel the pressure of too many eyes on her. Still, he caught her tense up, steeling herself for the memories she was about to recall.

“I got to the car and was just reaching for the door handle when I heard someone step out from the trees we were parked next to. I turned around and saw a man was standing behind me. He looked... Surprised to see me. He asked me if I was a friend of Scott McCall’s. He seemed like just a normal person, so I told him yes, I was.”

Stiles’ heart was pounding. This was the first time he was hearing the story as well.

(Y/N) took another shaky breath before continuing. “The next thing I knew, he had an arm wrapped around my torso and was pulling me away from the car, into the trees with a hand over my mouth. Then… he blindfolded me and led me through the trees to his car.”

“Okay, and how was he able to blindfold you?” Stiles’ dad asked as he finished making a note. He waved his pen. “Did he have a weapon, or - ?”

(Y/N) bit her lip. “No, not that I saw.”

“So then was there a struggle? It’s possible that there might be some clothing fibres at the scene we could use to identify him.”

(Y/N) gave the smallest shake of her head and cast her eyes downward at her hands, twined in her lap.

Stiles watched his dad lower his pen and look pensively at (Y/N). “(Y/N), I’ve seen you put up a fight against much less. What did he do to make you go with him?”

(Y/N) chewed on her lip again and Stiles wished he could read her thoughts. Was there something she was leaving out? 

He waited with bated breath for her response, but none came.

His dad pressed on. “(Y/N), any details you can give me could help us build a profile for this guy. Did he threaten you in some way?”

To Stiles’ surprise, (Y/N)’s eyes darted to him for the briefest moment, as if she couldn’t help it.

His dad seemed to catch the look. He urged her on. “(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) looked back down at the table, her hands. Her voice was small when she finally said, “I think he was expecting someone else to return to the car.”

“Someone else, as in?”

“I think…” (Y/N) still wouldn’t meet either of their eyes. “I think he somehow knew that Stiles was dropping Scott off, but he didn’t know that Allison and I were being picked up.”

His dad was silent for a beat. “Stiles was his intended target.”

At last, (Y/N) looked up. She said nothing in confirmation. She didn’t need to.

Stiles’ heart was in his throat.

“So what did he say?” He dad asked.

(Y/N)’s voice came out as nearly a whisper now. “He gave me two options.”

“What were they?”

“I could go with him quietly. Or he could tie me to a tree and…” She swallowed. “Wait for Stiles to come out. And take him instead.”

Stiles’ stomach plummeted. He couldn’t stand what he was hearing. It was his fault she was taken, she had gone in his place. His vision was swimming. He needed to… He needed -

He braced his hands on the tops of his legs and doubled over.

“I see,” His dad said in a strained voice that Stiles could barely hear over the rushing of blood in his ears. “So he wasn’t going to harm you if you chose the second option? He wasn’t concerned that you might be able to identify him?“

Stiles was struggling to remain upright but made himself look towards the table. He saw (Y/N) shake her head.

“That’s certainly… Odd. Okay. So next he brought you to his car,” his father said delicately. “What happened after that?”

“He put me in the trunk,” (Y/N) said, swallowing. “Bound my hands”

Stiles felt like he was going to be sick. He hurried past them into the kitchen and slid down onto the cool tiled floor, hidden from their view by the island.

“And then took off,” (Y/N) continued, her voice growing hollower and hollower as she went on. Disconnected. “We drove for maybe a little under an hour and then when we stopped, he pulled me out and dragged me into the building, I guess. I felt him put something around my ankle and loosen the ties behind my back. Then he took off the blindfold and… He just left. Without another word.”

Stiles was breathing in and out and in and out with his head buried in his arms, hunched over his knees.

He heard his dad quietly clear his throat before asking, “What kind of contact did you have with him while you were in the room?”

“None.”

“None?” His father’s surprise was evident as he repeated the word.

“Food and water were delivered through a slot twice a day. That was it,” She paused. “But there was a camera.”

Stiles’ dad didn’t say anything for a moment and Stiles truly felt like he was going to throw up now, he - 

“Okay,” his dad finally said softly. “I think that’s enough. Thank you, (Y/N). I know that wasn’t easy.”

“I hope it helps.”

“It will,” his father assured her. Stiles heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. “I need to get back to the station now. If you think of anything else or have any questions for me, just get in touch.”

“Okay,” (Y/N) said, also getting to her feet from the sound of it.

“Did Stiles go upstairs?”

“I’m not sure...”

“I’m going now, Stiles!” he heard his dad call out as he and (Y/N) exited the kitchen.

Stiles could still hear them talking softly as they made their way to the door. His dad was going to leave the contact information of the therapist at the station for (Y/N), if she wanted. (Y/N) thanked him and said goodbye. The front door opened and closed. Stiles exhaled a _slooow_ breath. Then,

“Stiles?”

He heard the sound of (Y/N)’s footsteps travelling from the living room, to the bottom of the staircase, back to the kitchen.

“Down here,” he finally said, his voice thick.

“Wh -” (Y/N) started. Followed by an, “Oh.”

Stiles raised his head and saw (Y/N) lower herself down to kneel in front of him.

“It should have been me,” he said, the words spilling out of him. “It was _supposed_ to be me. Not you. You -”

He was shaking.

“Hey,” (Y/N) said softly, and she placed a light hand on his arm. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It does,” Stiles moaned. “You never should have had to go through that. I _can’t stand_ that this happened to you.”

He wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but his cheeks were wet now, his vision blurry.

“Stiles,” (Y/N) began.

“You should have let him take me.”

“Stiles,” (Y/N) said again. “In that moment, the thought of him taking you was worse than the thought of me going with him. I didn’t even think about it.”

Stiles shook his head. “Scott would have forgiven you, he would have understood - ”

“Not because of Scott,” (Y/N) said, her voice firm now. “Scott didn’t even enter my mind.”

He felt her remove her hand from him and could just make out the movement of her sitting back on her heels.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of him taking you because - ”

Someone’s phone started ringing. It was (Y/N)’s. She hesitated a moment before answering.

“Allison?”

(Y/N) looked to Stiles for a moment before lowering the phone and tapping the screen to put the call on speaker. Stiles blinked to clear his vision and scrubbed his arm against his face.

“Hey,” Allison’s tinny voice came through the phone. “It’s still a stand-off over here. They haven’t moved an inch in the past four hours."

“Jesus,” (Y/N) said. “Are you sure there’s nothing we - ?”

“No, we’re literally circled by them. There’s no way anyone could approach them unnoticed. We’re just gonna have to wait it out.” Allison let out a weary sigh. “How are things over there? How are you doing?”

Stiles and (Y/N) held each other’s gaze for a moment, before (Y/N) glanced away. “I’m doing okay. I just gave my statement to Stiles' dad.”

“Oh,” Allison said softly. “I’m sorry I’m not there.”

“It’s okay,” (Y/N) said quickly. “Listen, I should let you go, okay? But keep in touch. Stay safe. All of you.”

“We will,” Allison said. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” (Y/N) said.

She tapped the phone screen again to end the call. Then she looked back to Stiles who had managed to calm down a little.

“You didn’t tell her about the message at the station?” he asked.

“I almost did, but,” (Y/N) bit her lip. “There’s nothing they can do right now. It would just worry them even more.”

Stiles nodded. She was right. Especially knowing how impulsive Scott could be. He would want to somehow do both, take on the rival pack _and_ catch the lone, unknown threat.

(Y/N) was still staring at him, her eyes soft. “I should have told you to leave the room. Before I gave my statement, I mean. I’m sorry. I thought I could leave that part out and that it wouldn’t matter.”

Stiles shook his head. “No, no... I... I'm glad I know. If you had let me go on all this time not knowing that I - that you -”

“Stiles, _please_ ,” (Y/N) said. “ _Please_ don’t beat yourself up about this. What happened was in no way your fault.”

And looking into her pleading eyes, the sorrow he found there, he _wanted_ to let himself believe that. He didn’t think he could, but he could at least pretend to. For her.

He sniffed and it was a wet, phlegm-y sound. He scrunched up his face. “Ugh, sorry that was gross.”

(Y/N) giggled and his chest felt a little lighter at the sound of it.

“God,” He said. “I should be the one comforting _you_ right now. (Y/N), I - I can’t begin to imagine what you went through. I’m so, _so_ , sorry.”

(Y/N) looked down, nodding. “I feel a little better after talking about some of it.”

 _Some_ of it. Because of course, she hadn’t gone into detail about what she had endured in being locked in that room for a week. She might be acting like she was doing okay on the outside, but Stiles knew that trauma wasn’t a thing to be left alone. It needed to be dealt with.

“I heard my dad left you some contact information,” Stiles said carefully. “Do you think you’d want to set up an appointment soon?”

(Y/N) met his gaze. “I think - Yeah. I’m going to call tomorrow.”

“Good,” Stiles said, genuinely relieved. “I think that will be really good for you.”

(Y/N) nodded again. Then, she turned her head, tucking the hair that fell over her face behind her ear, and Stiles saw the colour of her cheeks deepen. “Before Allison called, I was going to say...”

She trailed off and Stiles waited, trying to remember at what point in their conversation that had been. His mind had been so full.

(Y/N) re-adjusted herself on the floor, crossing her legs and pressing her hands down on her ankles, causing her shoulders to push up in an almost defensive way.

She was looking at the floor when she said, “Well, something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while,” she started again. “That I really thought a lot about this past week.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, his breath nearly catching.

(Y/N) continued. “When I was in that room, my mind went to some really dark places. I tried to hold onto hope, but after a while it just got harder and harder.”

Stiles saw her eyes line with silver and he had to swallow down the lump forming in his own throat. He wanted to reach for her, to -

“But the thing that got me through,” she continued in a timid voice he had rarely heard her use. “Was thinking of you.”

Stiles heard the words, but they didn't register in his brain. His brow furrowed in confusion. He saw (Y/N) blink, clearing her eyes, and when she looked up at him then through her lashes, he swore his heart stopped.

“I...” An uneven breath rattled through her. She shook her head and looked away again. “I don’t know how to say this.”

Stiles didn’t make the conscious decision, didn’t even realize what was happening as his arm instinctively moved, and he leaned forward to place his hand on (Y/N)’s in her lap. Her eyes snapped back to his, her lips parting to form a small ‘o’ shape. She blinked multiple times, and then, he saw her shoulders slowly drop back down into their normal position.

She took a deep breath in. “I really like you, Stiles.”

The air was sucked out of the room. The world stopped turning. Stiles’ body somehow simultaneously froze, went limp, turned to jelly, and numbed.

His voice sounded like it belonged to someone else, someone across the room, when he said, like an idiot, “What?”

(Y/N) looked at him, her expression almost pained as her eyes searched his for something.

He couldn’t find any words. Surely she didn’t mean what he so desperately hoped - ?

Then, (Y/N) abruptly scooted backwards, away from him, leaving his hand holding nothing but air as hers slid from it.

“Oh my God,” (Y/N) said, looking mortified. “You don’t… Never mind, I shouldn’t have said anything, I - ”

“W - w - wait,” Stiles said, scrambling forward so they were the same distance apart as they had been moments ago. He didn’t know what was happening, but he had to get back on the same page as her. “Do you mean - ?”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” (Y/N)’s eyes were squeezed shut. “Just forget it.”

He had to try. Even though he didn’t believe what seemed to be happening right now, he allowed himself to say the words he had been bottling up for the past six months. His voice was surprisingly steady as he said, “(Y/N), I’ve been crazy about you since the day I met you.”

Her eyes popped open, but it was a few seconds before they finally looked back to him, wonder shining in them. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said, and there wasn’t an ounce of fear in him like he thought there would be every time he imagined this moment.

(Y/N) let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. “Wow.”

It was Stiles’ turn to laugh. “What do you mean, ‘wow’? I’m the one who should be saying ‘wow’.”

(Y/N) giggled again, and it seemed as if all the pent-up tension in her body released with it. “You made it seem like - Oh my God, I was so _embarrassed_.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Stiles was laughing again, and he couldn’t stop himself - he reached back for her hand. He shook his head, bringing his other hand up to his temple as he said, “My brain honestly could not comprehend what it was hearing when you said that.”

(Y/N) gave him a disbelieving smile. “Why?”

“Because you’re you, and I’m…” he trailed off. “I mean, when Scott and Allison got together, _that_ made sense. But I’m not, I don’t know, a buff, badass werewolf dude.”

“No, you’re definitely not,” (Y/N) said, her face serious. “But buff werewolf dudes aren’t really my type, to be honest.”

“ _Ah_ ,” Stiles said, reclining back. “So you’re more into the skinny, pale, relies-way-too-heavily-on-sarcasm-as-a-form-of-self-defense type?”

(Y/N) leaned forward to meet him, placing her other hand on top of his. “No, I like the sweet, intelligent, can-make-me-laugh-even-when-it’s-the-last-thing-I-want-to-do type.”

That shut him up.

(Y/N) curved away from him again and raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly did you mean by, ‘you’re you’?”

“Come on,” Stiles said, now letting out a humorless laugh. “I mean, you’re… God, where do I even start? You’ve got a wit sharper than a knife but you’re kind to everyone, and when someone’s talking to you, you make them feel like what they’re saying actually matters. You’re funny, you’re brave, you’re laid back but driven, and you’re…”

He removed his hand from hers to gesture vaguely through the air at her.

“What is,” she mimicked his ridiculous arm movements. “Supposed to mean?”

Stiles blew out his lips in a small raspberry before finally saying, simply, “You’re beautiful.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) said, as if she genuinely hadn’t been expecting it. “Well… Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Stiles would have made a self-deprecating remark but as (Y/N) looked at him, her eyes molten, words escaped him. Once again, he found his arm moving of its own volition as it reached up to tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, the gesture he had seen her perform so often and every time imagined doing for her. She blushed, but for once didn’t break eye contact. He waited, and when she moved it was only a fraction of an inch in his direction, but he matched it. His hand, still hovering at her ear, slid down to cup her neck. They moved in short, small bursts, as if both waiting for the others’ approval. When they were at last close enough that their breath mingled, (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered shut and Stiles’ followed suit.

When their lips finally met, Stiles’ heart burst.


	5. Chapter 5

The kiss was sweet and didn’t last too long, but when they broke apart, they remained close enough that (Y/N) could see the flecks in Stiles’ golden-brown eyes. He kept his hand on her neck, sending a shiver down her spine as his fingers brushed it.

(Y/N) bowed her head and let out a shaky, breathless laugh. “Wow.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

(Y/N) shot him a playful glare before breaking out into a smile again. She felt light enough that she could almost forget everything that had happened the last week, and everything that was still going on now. All that mattered was the boy in front of her who was somehow looking at her the way she had always wanted him to.

“So…” (Y/N) finally forced herself to say. “What now?”

“Good question,” Stiles said, looking up at the ceiling. “Not too sure how to proceed from here.”

“Yeah, we kind of skipped a few steps,” (Y/N) agreed. “Awkward first date, all that jazz…”

Stiles raised a brow in challenge. “We could still have an awkward first date.”

(Y/N) glanced away from him then, suddenly jerked back to reality. Because yes, she had only _almost_ forgotten what she had gone through this week. The thought of leaving the house, knowing that _he_ was still out there somewhere…

Stiles, seeming to sense exactly what thoughts were running through her head, rushed to say, “But we don’t have to go anywhere.”

(Y/N) gave him a quizzical look.

Stiles held up a finger, then turned his head and cleared his throat, tugging at his shirt collar. When he looked back, his face bore an exaggeratedly nervous expression. “(Y/N), would you, uh, like to order Chinese take-out with me sometime?”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. She quickly composed herself to play along. “I would love to, Stiles. How about tonight?”

He pretended to think for a moment before saying, “Tonight’s great.”

“Perfect,” (Y/N) grinned. “It’s a date.”

“Aaah,” Stiles ran a hand through his hair, dropping the act. “See that’s why I like you. You’re just as much of a weirdo as I am.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Stilinski.”

His eyes seemed to flicker at that.

“But like, we are actually going to order Chinese, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Stiles straightened, his face utterly serious. “Oh, definitely. What time is it anyway?”

(Y/N) glanced over at the clock on the oven. “Six thirty.”

“Oof. No wonder I’m so hungry,” Stiles said. “How about you?”

As if on cue, (Y/N)’s stomach growled.

Stiles laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He quickly got to his feet and extended a veiny hand out to (Y/N), which she took and allowed herself to be pulled up as well. Then Stiles turned around and opened up a drawer, rummaging through its contents before whipping out a faded menu that read ‘Willie’s Chinese’. He waggled his eyebrows at her, then laid the menu flat on the counter. (Y/N) moved to stand next to him, closer than she would have before. She could practically feel the heat coming off his body as she stared down at the menu.

“So… Egg rolls, obviously,” Stiles said, running his finger down the list of menu items. “Fried rice… Chicken balls?”

He looked to (Y/N) for confirmation. She nodded. “Sure.”

“What else?”

(Y/N) pursed her lips in thought before saying, “Something vegetable-y.”

“Vegetable-y, vegetable-y,” Stiles murmured, scanning the items on the faded pages. “Stir fried vegetables?”

“Perfect,” (Y/N) said.

“Okay… And maybe some general tao’s. That should be enough, right?”

“Think so.”

Stiles reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone, his eyes darting back and forth from the menu as he dialled the number for the restaurant.

(Y/N) realized then that she had never changed out of her clothes from yesterday.

“Mind if I go shower while we wait for the food?” She stage-whispered as Stiles held the phone to his ear.

“No problem,” he mouthed, before saying, “Yeah hi, I’d like to make an order for delivery?”

(Y/N) retreated from the kitchen and headed upstairs to the girls’ bathroom. As she washed her hands, she lifted her gaze to the mirror hanging above the sink. She had avoided her reflection since returning home yesterday, but finally, she steeled herself to take a look.

Her hair was lacking some of its usual lustre and her skin was sallow, but all in all, it was not as bad as she had braced herself for. And now, after the events of the past fifteen minutes, she looked… rejuvenated. Her face broke out into a huge grin then, and she allowed herself a moment to silently freak out about what had just happened.

After all this time, over half a year of secretly pining after Stiles, she had made a move. It wasn’t at all how she had always imagined doing it, but when she had seen him there on the floor, looking as broken as she felt, she couldn’t help but say the one thing that might be able to explain what she had done, to take away whatever guilt her story had placed upon him.

Getting those words out had been more difficult than recounting the details of her capture to the sheriff, and for those excruciating seconds where Stiles hadn’t said anything, she had regretted ever opening her mouth. But then he had told her how he felt, and… (Y/N) had never felt such absolute, overwhelming elation. Just reliving it now, she couldn’t wait to go back out and see his face, to simply be in his presence again.

She hastily threw her hair up in a bun, deciding to skip washing it, having just done so yesterday - she’d spray some dry shampoo on it after. Then, she hopped in the shower, going through her usual routine with a little more sense of normalcy than the day before in her zombie-like state.

When she was finished, she padded back into her room through the attaching door and opened her closet. What did one wear for a stay-at-home date?

She decided to opt for comfort, but tried to make it cute, picking out a plain white cami and throwing a nice, drapey cardigan over it. For bottoms, she just pulled on another pair of her favourite black leggings. Moving to her vanity, she saw to her hair, and then headed back downstairs where she found Stiles sitting on the couch with his phone. Evidently he had decided to shower too, his damp hair dripping onto a fresh, green plaid shirt.

He looked up when she entered the room. “Food should be here soon.”

(Y/N) shot him a thumbs up and went to curl up on the arm chair across from him. Stiles set his phone down and leaned back slightly. (Y/N) felt her face burn as he simply sat there looking at her.

She buried her head in her shoulder. “Stop staring at me.”

“I always stare at you,” Stiles said, and she could hear him grinning. “It never bothered you before.”

She whipped her head back up to shoot him a look. “How can that be? I thought _I_ was always staring at _you_.”

Stiles shrugged, then whispered, “Mysteries of the universe…”

(Y/N) giggled and she thought she saw his eyes light up.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Stiles stood up to answer it and (Y/N) went to get her purse, attempting to pay for half but Stiles wouldn’t have it. Then together, they carried the food into the kitchen where Stiles had already set the table and poured two glasses of water.

“You had time to shower _and_ set the table before I came back down?” (Y/N) asked. “Do I take that long?”

“Yes,” Stiles flashed a cheeky smile.

(Y/N)’s stomach did a flip.

She attempted to compose herself as they unpacked the food and sat down to load up their plates, Stiles heaping a pile of chicken fried rice onto his, (Y/N) taking mostly stir-fry, feeling the need to get some nutrients back in her body.

(Y/N) felt self-conscious as she bit into a particularly crunchy piece of broccoli, hoping it hadn’t sounded as loud to him as it did in her own head. They had eaten alone together just this morning but it felt different now, the air more charged. It was too quiet with nothing but the sound of their chewing.

Moving to take a sip of water, (Y/N) broke the silence. “Would you rather be able to read minds or stop time?”

“Oh, read minds, easy,” Stiles said, gulping down his food. “I could have saved us so much time trying to figure out who the alpha, or the kanima, or whatever other supernatural bullshit going on around here was.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it get annoying?” (Y/N) asked. “Constantly hearing all those thoughts buzzing around you?”

Stiles considered this. “Eh, you’d probably get used to it. How ‘bout you?”

“Stop time,” (Y/N) said. “But with the huge caveat that I wouldn’t age while time was stopped.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, chewing as he waited for her to elaborate.

“Well, if I was always stopping time but my body was still aging, I could easily lose like, a year of my life in real time. And then when I started to look older, people would catch on to that and next thing I know, the government would be banging on my door, wanting to do testing on me.”

Stiles choked on a laugh. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I take hypotheticals very seriously.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, wiping his hands on a napkin before going to scrape more rice onto his plate. “Would you rather have hands for feet, or feet for hands?

They carried on like that for the duration of their meal. After they had finished and cleaned everything up, (Y/N) strolled over to the living room. She could hear Stiles following behind as she settled into the corner of the couch. Stiles sat down in the middle, a little closer than he would have before.

They were quiet for a moment, and then Stiles let out a laugh.

“What?” (Y/N) asked, both amused and intrigued.

“I just still can’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head. “All this time…”

(Y/N) bowed her head, smiling too. “I know.”

“Scott and Allison are going to freak.”

Oh they most certainly would. Especially Allison. (Y/N) had never quite divulged her feelings for Stiles to her, but she knew her cousin had been able to tell anyways.

“Allison’s going to want to go on double dates,” (Y/N) said.

“Yeah, now we won’t be the awkward third and fourth wheel when we all hang out.”

(Y/N) laughed. She looked over at Stiles then and caught him unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn. She frowned. “Tired?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, waving a hand. “I’m guessing you aren’t, after your nap earlier?”

“Yeah, not really,” (Y/N) admitted. “But you don’t have to stay up on my account if you want to go to bed.”

Stiles looked at her, his voice low as he said, “I don’t want to.”

(Y/N) blinked, her pulse speeding up as his eyes held hers. Her voice came out quiet too as she said, “Then what do you want to do?”

Stiles looked down then, and edged a little closer to her on the couch, their knees touching now. Impulsively, (Y/N) stretched out her fingertips to graze his knee. She heard Stiles swallow, and when they looked back up at each other, she knew the answer to her question. She removed her hand from his knee and lifted it to rest on his arm. Then, ever so gently, she tugged on his sleeve, pulling him closer to her as she leaned forward at the same time.

As their lips met, Stiles placed his arm over the back of the couch so her head was nestled comfortably in the crook of his elbow. Then, he reached his other hand to cup the back of her head, running his fingers through her long hair and down to settle on her waist. (Y/N) slid her own hand higher to wrap her arm around him.

(Y/N) felt electric. Their movements were perfectly in sync, as if they had been doing this forever. Though she didn’t want to stop, they broke apart for air then, but barely moved away from each other. Stiles reached to tuck her hair behind (Y/N)’s ear before dropping his hand to rest lightly on her bare ankle.

And then the world tilted.

She was back in the windowless room, the click of a shackle echoing off the walls as it locked around her ankle. She couldn’t get enough air, she - 

(Y/N) jerked away from Stiles, gasping and shaking.

“(Y/N)?”

His voice, high with alarm, sounded distant to her ears, but somewhat brought her back to reality. She was in their living room, on the couch, and Stiles -

She placed both hands on the back of her neck, panting. "Sorry. I don’t know what just happened. ”

“It’s okay,” Stiles said quickly, and she saw him reach for her before hesitating and changing his mind. “Was it something I did?”

(Y/N) shook her head, trying to clear it. "I just… I need some air.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, standing as she did.

She moved to the patio door in the kitchen and slid it open, gulping down the cool, night air, sensing Stiles slowly approach her from the side. After a few more deep inhales, (Y/N) closed the door once more and turned to press her back against it, sliding down to the floor. 

And then, she couldn’t help it. She started crying.

“(Y/N),” Stiles said, worry coating his voice. 

Through her tears, she saw him drop to the ground next to her.

She felt Stiles place an arm around her tentatively, as if unsure whether it was the right thing to do in the situation. But when she leaned into him, pressing her cheek to his chest, he wrapped his other arm around her and cradled her to him.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he said, his voice soft above her ear. “You’re safe.”

She allowed the warmth of his body and the sound of his steady heartbeat to lull her until she managed to stop the flow of tears. She sagged against him and let out a long breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was.”

He stroked her hair. “You went through a lot. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t feeling like this.”

(Y/N) sniffed. “But I felt fine. More than fine. I don’t know what brought it on.”

Stiles rested his chin on the top of her head. “When you go through something traumatic, sometimes your body reacts to things against your control.”

"Well it sucks,” (Y/N) said.

Stiles laughed quietly, the shaking of his shoulders jostling her. “I know. But it won’t last forever. Let’s call the therapist first thing tomorrow, okay?”

(Y/N) nodded, sniffling again. Then said, “I think maybe I should go lie down after all.”

“Alright, c'mon.”


	6. Chapter 6

They headed up the stairs together, (Y/N) in front. Stiles, however, paused when he reached the top, hesitating between taking a right, to (Y/N)'s room, or a left, to his. She had wanted him to stay yesterday, but perhaps she was feeling more at ease now. But then also, things between them had certainly changed and he had no idea what she would want now.

Erring on the side of not assuming anything, Stiles opted to turn left.

He heard (Y/N) stop behind him then, and he looked back at her.

"Oh," she said. "Are you going to sleep in your room?"

"Well, uh," Stiles stammered. "Did you want me to - ?"

“If you don’t mind,” (Y/N) said, glancing away and playing with a lock of her hair. “I’d like you to.”

"No," Stiles said almost instantly. Then, "I mean, no I don’t mind. Let me just wash up and I'll meet you in there."

(Y/N) smiled and his chest swelled as it always did at the sight of it. "Okay. Thanks."

When Stiles entered her room a few minutes later, (Y/N) was already under the blankets of her twin bed, lying on her side. Stiles gave her a closed-lipped smile and shut the door behind him. After quickly arranging his things, he laid himself down on the couch. When he looked back at (Y/N), he saw her frown.

"What is it?" he asked 

"You're so far away," she practically pouted.

Stiles snorted. "Oh."

He hopped off the couch then and moved around to the back of it and gave it a shove. One side slid forward to form an acute angle with the bed, leaving just enough space for movement in between the two. Then, he switched his pillow to the opposite end, across from (Y/N)’s, and laid back down. Their faces were a foot apart now. 

His voice was low as he said, "How's this?"

(Y/N)'s eyes danced. "Much better."

Stiles reached out to brush her hair from her face. "You ready to sleep?"

"I guess."

"I'll get the light."

Stiles moved to get off the couch but (Y/N)'s hand shot out to grab his wrist.

"Wait," she said.

Stiles froze.

Then, she pulled him to her and kissed him.

When they broke apart, she said, "Just wanted to do that one more time while I could still see you."

Stiles' heart was fluttering wildly as he stood to flick the lights off.

Lying there in the dark felt just as charged as it had the night before, but it was more pleasant now after what had changed between them. Though his eyes hadn't adjusted yet, Stiles looked towards (Y/N) and could tell she was looking right back at him. 

Reluctantly, he said, "You should try to sleep, (Y/N)."

She sighed. "I know."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight,” she repeated.

Stiles rolled to face the back of the couch.

Five minutes passed.

"Stiles?" (Y/N)'s voice broke the silence.

He turned back to her slightly. "Yeah?"

"Could you... I don't know, tell me a story or something?"

"What kind of story?"

"Anything," (Y/N) said. "I just don't like the quiet."

Stiles frowned at the fear in her voice. He would do anything to make it go away. "Alright, let me think."

He rolled onto his back and startled when he felt (Y/N)'s cool fingers wrap around his hand, resting on the couch. He turned his head and could just see her nuzzling into her pillow, her eyes closed. Stiles swallowed, and tightened his own grip on her hand in his. He racked his brain for something to talk about, but as he looked at her, his mind didn't seem to be able to think of anything else.

"I remember the day we met like it was yesterday," he said softly. (Y/N) peeped an eye open, intrigued. "Hey, you're supposed to be trying to sleep."

She quickly closed it again and grinned into her pillow. "Sorry, sorry."

Stiles was smiling too as he said, "That's better. Now, as I was saying. I remember Scott and I were headed to Allison's to fill her in on some new development we had learned. On the drive there, Scott mentioned that we would have to be careful because Allison's cousin was visiting and she didn't know about their family, or any of this stuff. He also told me that he had met her the last time he was at Allison’s and that she was cute and single. At that time though, dating was the last thing on my mind with all the other insane crap we were dealing with. 

But then, while the three of us were talking in the living room, you burst through the front door all of a sudden, yelling about how Allison's dog had tried to kill you by wrapping his leash around your legs. I can still see the look on your face. Your cheeks were bright pink and your hair was windswept, and - you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen.

But it wasn't just that. I quickly got to know how smart you were. Funny, too. I remember I could barely talk that day around you, and Scott wouldn't stop teasing me. And then on the drive back home, he had the most I-told-you-so friggin attitude. But he was right. Ever since that day, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I just wish... I wish you hadn’t had to get wrapped up in all this though. This world. Or, I wish I wasn't wrapped up in it so we could just be normal together."

As Stiles said the words, he realized how true they were. But there was nothing that could be done about it now. He paused, and heard (Y/N) inhale then, slow and deep. Her hand was still wrapped in his, but her fingers had loosened slightly. He wasn't sure at what point she had fallen asleep, but he hoped he had been able to help. He would tell her that same story every night if she asked.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing (Y/N)’s eyes laid on when she woke that morning was Stiles’ slumbering face, a mere foot and a half from hers. He was snoring ever-so-slightly, his arm hanging limp over the side of the couch, reminding her that they had fallen asleep holding hands.

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that bloomed across her face as she took in the sight of him, so peaceful and so utterly  _ boy-ish _ . His skin was nearly golden as the morning sun fell on it, his hair tousled and silky looking against his pillow.

Not wanting to stare for too long, (Y/N) propped herself up on her elbow and reached for her phone on the bedside table, making as little sound as she could lest she wake him. It was 9:30 am and she had no new messages from Allison. That was either good, or very, very bad. She prayed for the former.

(Y/N) glanced back at Stiles, still fast asleep, and then at the small gap between her bed and the couch, gauging whether she had room to get up without disturbing him. It would be tight. She decided she would stay put for the moment - there was no way she was waking him up. The shadows under his eyes had still not completely faded, and who knew how long it had taken him to drift off last night after so selflessly lulling (Y/N) to sleep with his voice.

She had been pleasantly surprised when he had indulged her strange request the night before. She thought back, trying to remember at what point in his story she had fallen asleep. Her attention had been rapt when he had started reminiscing about their first meeting, and she had wanted to stay awake to listen to what he was going to say, but despite her wishes, sleep had overtaken her soon after he had begun talking. She wondered if she would ever be able to get him to repeat what he had said while she was fully awake.

As if her thinking of him had stirred him to consciousness, (Y/N) looked over at the sound of Stiles shifting on the couch. His eyes opened groggily, their irises a vivid amber in the bright sunlight. After a few seconds of adjusting to the bright room, they fell on (Y/N)’s.

“Good morning,” she said in a soft voice.

Stiles blinked sleepily and (Y/N) melted slightly. His voice was raspy when he said, “Morning. How’d you sleep?”

(Y/N) let out a relaxed sigh. “Really well. You?”

Stiles rolled onto his back, eyes scrunching as he yawned loudly. “Alright.”

Just alright. (Y/N)’s eyes drifted to the other end of the couch where one leg was propped up, foot sticking up over the edge, the other leg dangling off the side. She frowned. She wouldn’t make him sleep there for another night in a row.

“Thanks for staying again,” she said, the words tinged with guilt.

“Of course,” Stiles said, more serious than he usually sounded.

(Y/N) looked at him for a moment and then glanced away, feeling suddenly awkward. So much had changed between them in so little time. What even  _ were  _ they now? Were they supposed to kiss each other good morning? Self-consciousness flooded through (Y/N) at the thought of him smelling her morning breath. She didn’t even know what she looked like right now.

“I’m going to get up,” she said, deciding then. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Take your time.”

Stiles blinked a few times, still not fully awake, evidently. “Yeah, alright. See you downstairs.”

(Y/N) freshened up in the washroom before heading downstairs and looking for something to make for breakfast. There still wasn’t much in the pantry - eventually, they were going to have to go grocery shopping. She did manage to find a box of pancake mix in the back of a cupboard so she set to work on preparing some. Stiles came down about ten minutes later, just as she was spooning the last of the batter onto the frying pan.

“Hope you’re hungry,” (Y/N) said.

“Oh, wow,” Stiles said, stepping into the room. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” (Y/N) said.

They were quiet for a few minutes as (Y/N) manned the stove. And when the pancakes were done and (Y/N) brought them to the table, they ate with little conversation.

Finally, (Y/N) broke the silence. “I’m going to call the therapist after.”

Stiles swallowed what sounded like a huge gulp of food. “Oh, good.”

(Y/N) nodded and took another bite of food. And just like that the awkward quiet was back.

When they were finished eating, Stiles offered to clean up while (Y/N) went to make the phone call. To her surprise, she was able to make an appointment an hour later. She told Stiles, who graciously said he would drive her there. (Y/N) had tried to protest, saying that he had already done so much for her, but she was relieved when he had insisted. Going out alone was the last thing she wanted to do.

She had gone up to have a quick shower and get dressed before heading back downstairs where she found Stiles waiting by the front door, keys to his jeep in hand.

“All set?” he asked when she approached.

(Y/N) nodded despite the sudden flutter of anxious butterflies that filled her stomach.

Stiles seemed to sense her uneasiness and stepped towards her. He reached for her hand. “Hey.”

(Y/N) tilted her head back to look at him as Stiles raised his hand to tuck her hair back. She exhaled softly at the contact, her eyelids fluttering shut. When she looked back at him, she saw a question in his eyes, hesitant and cautious. Surprising herself with her boldness, she took a step towards him and placed her own hand on the small of his back. Taking that as approval enough, Stiles pulled her even closer and lowered his face to hers.

It was as if the kiss unlocked something between them. Gone was the awkwardness (Y/N) had been battling all morning. This was Stiles,  _ her  _ Stiles, and whatever they were, it was  _ good _ . (Y/N) tightened her grip on his back, digging her fingers into the soft fabric of his hoodie. They broke apart, but kept their foreheads pressed together.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Stiles said, gently stroking her upper arm. “I know I was the first time I went to therapy. But it’s worth it for how you’ll feel after.”

(Y/N) nodded, savouring the feel of being this close to him, the sound of his voice grounding her. “Okay, let’s go.”

Stiles smiled and kept her hand in his as (Y/N) slipped on her shoes before heading out. (Y/N) watched as Stiles locked the door and then together, they turned around.

And found themselves staring straight at Scott and Allison, standing on the driveway.

(Y/N)’s immediate reaction was relief at seeing them both unscathed, however a pit formed in her stomach as she took in their expressions. Scott looked vacant and somewhat disconcerted, whereas Allison’s eyes were huge, mouth open in shock.

“Scott, Allison,” (Y/N) said, her voice a pitch higher than usual. “Are you alr -”

Allison cut (Y/N) off. “ _ Finally _ !”

And then it hit her. (Y/N) glanced down at her side, to where her fingers were still intertwined with Stiles’.

All the fear (Y/N) had felt at the sight of their faces had vanished, and was replaced by embarrassment. Her cheeks burned.

“Really?  _ This _ is what’s important right now?” Stiles’ tone was dry but couldn’t completely mask the pride in his voice.

Allison pointed between them. “So you two - ?”

(Y/N) shrugged, unable to keep a smile from forming as she looked up at Stiles.

“You guys!” Scott said, a grin breaking out across his own face as he made his way towards them, Allison in toe. “That’s awesome.”

“I’m so happy for you!” Allison practically squealed, hugging them both.

“Thanks, but what about you?” (Y/N) asked, stepping back. “Are you guys okay? What happened?”

Allison, quickly getting over the distraction of seeing (Y/N) and Stiles together, turned serious. “Sorry, we would have called but our phones died. Basically, after waiting practically the whole day for them to make a move, the other pack suddenly just bolted.”

“Yeah, it was like they got a signal from someone or something,” Scott said. “They all just took off at the same time. We all hung around and took turns on watch during the night but they never came back.”

“Weird,” Stiles said. “Very weird.”

“Yeah, but we’re sure that won’t be the last of them,” Allison said.

Stiles nodded but then glanced at his phone. “Sorry this is bad timing, but we actually have to go now.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) said, having almost forgotten about her appointment. “Right, Stiles is dropping me off at the therapist’s office. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Oh! Okay,” Allison said. “We’ll talk more when you guys get back. Good luck.”

Allison gave her cousin another quick squeeze.

“See you guys later,” Scott said, waggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“ _ Bye _ ,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes and pulling (Y/N) to the jeep.


	8. Chapter 8

When Stiles returned from dropping (Y/N) off, he had barely taken off his shoes when Scott was upon him.

“ _Dude_ ,” his friend said simply.

Stiles dropped his keys and looked at Scott, annoyed for a moment before breaking out into a grin. “Yeah, man.”

“I’m happy for you, bro.” Scott pulled him into a hug, slapping his back. “So are you like, together?”

Stiles blinked. That was a good question. “Uh, I don’t really know. It kinda happened out of nowhere.”

“How?”

“It was after she gave her statement to my dad,” Stiles broke off, dread washing over him as he remembered the details of the conversation. “Scott, that night, the guy, whoever he is, he - He was supposed to take _me_ , not (Y/N).”

“What?” Scott said, straightening.

Stiles filled him in on everything (Y/N) had said. Then he added, “You’d think he was trying to lure you by taking one of us, but then why make it so hard to find him?”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Scott shook his head. “Why not go straight after me?”

“Maybe he just wants to fuck with you,” Stiles said, grim. “Cause chaos, Nogitsune style.”

“That’s almost more concerning.”

“ _Shyeah_ ,” Stiles said. “And that’s not all - is Allison around? She should hear this too.”

“She’s taking a nap,” Scott said.

“Okay, we’ll tell her after,” Stiles said. “He left a message - at the station. My dad told me last night. It just said: ‘I’ll be back’.”

Scott shook his head, looking defeated. “I should have gone after him when he bolted the other day.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stiles said, though he supposed it wasn’t really. None of this was okay. But he wasn’t going to let Scott blame himself. “He doesn’t know where we are, at least.”

Scott nodded. “Let’s try to keep it that way.”

Stiles blinked, suddenly feeling sick. “(Y/N) - I should have waited there for her at her appointment.”

Scott gripped Stiles’ shoulders as his breathing sped up. “She’ll be fine. Go back and wait for her. I’m going to call Derek.”

Stiles nodded and picked his keys back up without another word.

It was a short drive. Stiles pulled into the closest spot to the door when he got there and turned off the Jeep. He scanned the parking lot for anything suspicious but as he took in the sunny, utterly benign surroundings, he felt foolish. Shaking his head with a sigh, he checked the time - (Y/N) would be done in about ten minutes. He rolled down his window and rested his elbow on it, idly drumming his fingers on the side of the car. 

He remained on alert, but calmed himself down further by allowing his thoughts to drift back to this morning, when he had woken up to (Y/N) practically right next to him. How anyone could look that good in the morning was beyond him. _He_ had probably had dried up drool on his chin. He hoped they would have many more mornings like that - minus the drool. He also hoped that her session was going well, that the therapist was a good fit for her. She would likely be pretty drained afterwards, but Stiles knew that she would be so much better for it in the long run.

He was so lost in his musings that he jumped when (Y/N) came into view then, striding past the windshield to the passenger side and opening the door.

“Hey,” she said, climbing into the seat next to him.

“Hey,” Stiles said, assessing her as she buckled herself in. She was smiling. He took that as a good sign. “How’d it go?”

“Ah, you know. It wasn’t exactly fun, but... I feel good. I’m going back next week.”

“That’s great,” Stiles said, genuinely relieved. But he also took the time to scan the perimeter of the parking lot again.

(Y/N) didn’t miss the action. She raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles said. “Just being overly cautious, probably. Let’s go home.”

*****

After returning home, (Y/N) had sat quietly watching tv with Stiles, not quite in the mood to chat, but still wanting the comfort of company - particularly Stiles’. He hadn’t pressed her to talk, which she had appreciated. Scott had joined them after some time, and Allison too when she got up from her nap. But then, after an unsuccessful search in the kitchen for a satisfactory snack, Scott had declared he was going to make a grocery run, and Stiles went along to help.

It was around four o’clock now and (Y/N) and Allison were still sitting in the living room, now each holding steaming mugs of tea.

“So your therapy session went alright?” Allison asked, raising her drink to her lips.

(Y/N) stirred her own tea idly. “It was good. I’m actually really looking forward to going back.”

It was true. Though her nerves had come back as soon as Stiles had dropped her off earlier, her therapist - a friendly middle-aged woman named Susan - had quickly put her at ease. It had been surprisingly easy for (Y/N) to open up to her.

“That’s awesome. I’m really happy you went. I still feel awful about leaving you when you had just gotten home,” Allison’s face was lined with guilt. But then the corners of her mouth tugged up and she quirked an eyebrow. “Although, I guess if we hadn’t, you and Stiles would still just be secretly pining over each other.”

“Shut up,” (Y/N) grinned, lightly hitting Allison’s leg with a pillow.

Allison gave an impish laugh, but then her expression softened. “You two are cute together.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks heated but she couldn’t help the small smile that formed. “You think so?”

Allison nodded. “Stiles is trying to play it cool around us but I can tell how happy he is. And you are too, right?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said, looking down at her tea. “I am. But also... I don’t know, I’ve never gone from friends to being... something more. And we already _live_ together. I’m scared of going too fast and ruining everything.”

“Don’t overthink it,” Allison said. “He likes you - it’s going to take a lot to change that. Just go with it.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said. She supposed she _was_ just being her usual worrywart self. “You’re right.”

Just then, the front door flung open and Scott burst in, arms full of reusable bags packed to the brim with groceries.

Stiles trudged in behind him, equally loaded down. He dumped his haul onto the floor with a huff. “Think this should last us for about the next millennium.”

He caught (Y/N)’s eye then and flashed her a little smile. Her stomach fluttered, and for a moment it took her back to the past, just another normal day where Stiles was giving her butterflies as he always did. She felt silly then, because though they hadn’t even been gone for an hour, (Y/N) realized that she had missed him.

“Holy crap,” Allison said, standing. “Is there anything left at the store?”

(Y/N) laughed and got up too to help bring the groceries into the kitchen.

“Scott, why did you get so many kinds of tea?!” Allison asked as she set a bag down on the counter.

“I couldn’t remember which one you like, they all looked the same!”

“That’s why you read the _labels_...”

As Allison attempted to show Scott the difference between earl grey and English breakfast, Stiles sidled over to (Y/N). “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said back.

“Still doing okay?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said. “Better now, though.”

She looked up at Stiles, who smiled. Then, he quickly kissed the top of her head before continuing with the bag he was working on.

Once everything was unpacked, they spent another twenty minutes debating what to make with their now abundance of ingredients. In the end, they settled on tacos, and set to work preparing it together. With the kitchen full and the four of them laughing and chattering away, (Y/N) was able to push the events of the past week to the back of her mind, all but forgotten. It felt just like old times, except now with the added bonus of Stiles brushing her arm as they chopped vegetables next to each other, or placing his hand on the small of her back as he passed behind her.

They remained at the table long after they had all finished eating, Stiles taking hold of (Y/N)’s hand under the table every so often, causing a jolt of joy in her each time.

Eventually, Allison and Scott decided to turn in for the night and retreated to their room on the other side of the house, leaving Stiles and (Y/N) alone at the table.

Stiles stretched his arms behind his head. “I could probably sleep soon too, actually. How ‘bout you?”

(Y/N) was feeling pretty tired too, especially after their taco feast. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

As they headed up the stairs together, it was (Y/N)'s turn to stop in the middle of the hallway as Stiles had the night before. He paused his step and looked at her, waiting.

She didn't meet his eye as she said, "You should sleep in your room tonight."

"Oh," Stiles said, heart sinking a little. He knew he should be happy that she was feeling ready to be in her room by herself again, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little disappointed. He quickly composed himself, though. "Hey, that’s great that you feel up to sleeping alone.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, and looked to the side.

Stiles' brow furrowed. Oh God, that wasn't why, was it? Did she just not want to be around him? Did he do something - ?

(Y/N) seemed to see his internal turmoil on his face. She quickly said, "It's not that I don't want you there, it's just -"

She cut herself off, and appeared to regret saying that much. Stiles searched her eyes for answers but he couldn't find any. "What is it?"

(Y/N) tucked her hair back. "I feel bad that I've been making you sacrifice your own comfort to help me sleep."

 _Oh._ Stiles’ softened. He reached to take hold of both of her hands, causing her to meet his eye finally. "You weren't _making_ me. I'll stay as long as you need me to."

_And even after that, if you’ll have me._

(Y/N) shook her head. "I don't want you to keep having to sleep on a couch you're too tall for."

Before he could stop himself, Stiles said, "My bed’s a queen."

(Y/N) blinked. "Oh. That's right."

Stiles rushed to say, "But if you'd be more comfortable in your own room, I get it -”

"No, I - " (Y/N)'s cheeks were bright red. "If you don't mind, I don't mind."

Stiles' voice came out quiet when he said, "I don't mind."


	9. Chapter 9

And so just like that, five minutes later, Stiles found himself rushing to straighten up his room which he had allowed to grow quite messy during his sleepless nights the week before. He was just tucking in the corners of the new sheets he had put on when the door creaked open before shutting again. He looked up to see (Y/N), her fingers poised on the door handle as she looked around, then at him.

"Sorry, it's uh, still a little messy in here," Stiles said, straightening up and rubbing his neck.

(Y/N) smiled. "That's okay."

She was wearing a matching set of pink pajamas, a long sleeve top paired with little shorts. She stepped towards the bed, then stopped. "Which side do you sleep on?"

"Oh," Stiles said, thinking. He usually just kinda sprawled out. But he supposed there was a side he tended to favor. He patted the mattress where he was standing, next to the window. "This one, usually."

"Okay," (Y/N) said, and padded over to the opposite side.

Stiles couldn't help but watch as she sat herself on-top of the covers, at the way her silky skin caught the light as she crossed her legs under her. His heart fluttered as he took in the sight of her perched on his bed.

"What?" (Y/N) asked, a brow raised in suspicion.

"Nothing," Stiles said, running a hand through his hair. Then he gestured towards her. "It's just kinda surreal seeing you in my room."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes but he saw her cheeks flush. "Stiles, I've been in your room before."

"I know," he said. "But this is different."

She just smiled at that, and began to untuck the covers, burying her legs under them. Then she looked back at Stiles and paused. “Are you just going to stand there all night?”

Stiles realized then that he _was_ still just standing there watching her, transfixed. He straightened, and quickly sat down on the bed beside her, pulling the blankets down on his own side. When he looked back at (Y/N), he saw she was still giving him an expectant look.

“Right,” he said, realization hitting him. He stretched his arm out to flick the lamp on his bedside table on and then jumped back out of bed to turn the ceiling lights off.

Stiles climbed back into the bed, got under the blankets and laid his head on his pillow to face (Y/N). "Hi."

"Hi," (Y/N) said back, turning her face into the pillow slightly, giggling.

The room was now cast in just the dim, orange glow of the lamp. When (Y/N) looked back to him, she was still smiling, and Stiles savoured the sight. He had missed that smile so damn much.

He raised his hand to cup her face, grazing her cheek with his thumb. (Y/N) rose up a bit in response and moved closer to him, placing her own hand on his arm before leaning in.

Heat coursed through Stiles' body as they kissed, their current horizontal position adding a whole new element to the sensation. Stiles’ hand moved to (Y/N)'s neck but didn’t venture much further. (Y/N)’s, however, slid down his arm and back up, and then roved to his side, her fingertips leaving goosebumps on his skin in their wake.

Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, Stiles eventually made himself pull away. “We should get some sleep.”

(Y/N) practically pouted.

“Don’t give me that look,” Stiles said with a laugh. “You know I’m right.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Stiles said with a grin. “I’m gonna get the light, okay?”

(Y/N) nodded.

With one last look in her eyes, Stiles reached for the lamp.

She was back in the room.

When (Y/N)’s eyes flew open, they took in the barren, peeling, grey walls around her, and she knew in an instant where she was. She got to her feet and staggered forward, the chain around her ankle heavy, _so_ heavy. She managed one limping step before she tripped, falling face first into a window she hadn’t noticed before. She thrust her arms out in front of her and her splayed hands smacked against the glass, catching her fall.

She dragged her foot forward to regain her balance as she slid herself up the length of the huge window to peer through it. It looked into another room identical to the one she was in, except...

Lying curled up in the middle of the floor was... _Stiles_?

(Y/N) gasped, pressing her face to the glass to get a better look. He was beaten, eyes swollen, lips cracked and bleeding, and his clothes torn. She had to get to him, she had to -

But she froze in horror when Stiles stirred and the door behind him creaked open to reveal the silhouette of a man looming above him.

(Y/N) screamed but no sound came out. She pounded on the glass with all her might, but it was no use, he couldn’t hear her, he was going to -

“ _(_ _Y/N), wake up!_ ”

(Y/N) jolted awake to see Stiles, utterly unharmed, staring down at her with wide eyes in the dim lamplight.

She was not in the room. No, here she was, tangled up in the covers of Stiles’ bed.

(Y/N) tried to catch her breath as she propped herself up on her elbow.

“It’s okay,” Stiles said, gripping her shoulder with one hand and brushing the hair from her face with the other. “It was just a dream.”

The door to the bedroom burst open then, and Scott, clad in nothing but his boxers, rushed in, his eyes glowing red and his claws out. Allison stood behind him in a robe, armed with her crossbow.

“Guys, it’s okay, she was just having a nightmare,” Stiles rushed to explain.

Scott and Allison’s stances relaxed slightly, and Scott’s eyes faded back to their natural brown hue.

“We thought - ” Allison said, still looking on edge as she took a step forward and inspected the room, not quite ready to lower her guard.

“Sorry for waking everyone,” (Y/N) said, feeling herself blush deeply.

“It’s okay,” Stiles said quickly, turning back to her.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Scott said. “We’ll let you get back to sleep. Night, guys.”

“Good night,” Allison said. Her expression was still wary, but she followed Scott out of the room and closed the door softly behind them.

“Are you alright?” Stiles said once they were alone again.

(Y/N) nodded. Her heart had stopped racing, and the lingering fear after being yanked out of the dream had mostly been replaced by embarrassment. “Has this been happening every night?”

“No,” Stiles said, shaking his head. But then he raised a quizzical eyebrow and looked to the ceiling. “Unless I’ve been sleeping so deeply that your screams haven’t woken me until now.”

At the look on her face, Stiles backpedaled.

“Kidding,” he said. “Is this the first nightmare you’ve had?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment. “I think so. I don’t remember any dreams from the past few nights.”

Stiles frowned. “Well... Maybe this is a good sign? Maybe it means that your brain is working through the memories or something.”

(Y/N) considered this. “Maybe...”

Stiles continued studying her - his eyes were soft, but concern was still apparent in his gaze. “Think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?”

(Y/N) shrugged, but made no move to settle back down onto the pillow.

“C’mere,” Stiles said, wrapping his arm around her torso, and gently leading her to lie with her back against him. He held her close but not too tight, and she allowed the warmth of his body to soothe her as she nestled back under the covers and attempted to block out the memory of his bruised body on the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

And so just like that, five minutes later, Stiles found himself rushing to straighten up his room which he had allowed to grow quite messy during his sleepless nights the week before. He was just tucking in the corners of the new sheets he had put on when the door creaked open before shutting again. He looked up to see (Y/N), her fingers poised on the door handle as she looked around, then at him.

"Sorry, it's uh, still a little messy in here," Stiles said, straightening up and rubbing his neck.

(Y/N) smiled. "That's okay."

She was wearing a matching set of pink pajamas, a long sleeve top paired with little shorts. She stepped towards the bed, then stopped. "Which side do you sleep on?"

"Oh," Stiles said, thinking. He usually just kinda sprawled out. But he supposed there was a side he tended to favor. He patted the mattress where he was standing, next to the window. "This one, usually."

"Okay," (Y/N) said, and padded over to the opposite side.

Stiles couldn't help but watch as she sat herself on-top of the covers, at the way her silky skin caught the light as she crossed her legs under her. His heart fluttered as he took in the sight of her perched on his bed.

"What?" (Y/N) asked, one brow raised in suspicion.

"Nothing," Stiles said, running a hand through his hair. Then he gestured towards her. "It's just kinda surreal seeing you in my room."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes but he saw her cheeks flush. "Stiles, I've been in your room before."

"I know," he said. "But this is different."

She just smiled at that, and began to untuck the covers, burying her legs under them. Then she looked back at Stiles and paused. “Are you just going to stand there all night?”

Stiles realized then that he _was_ still just standing there watching her, transfixed. He straightened, and quickly sat down on the bed beside her, pulling the blankets down on his own side. When he looked back at (Y/N), he saw she was still giving him an expectant look.

“Right,” he said, realization hitting him. He stretched his arm out to flick the lamp on his bedside table on and then jumped back out of bed to turn the ceiling lights off.

Stiles climbed back into the bed, got under the blankets and laid his head on his pillow to face (Y/N). "Hi."

"Hi," (Y/N) said back, turning her face into the pillow slightly, giggling.

The room was now cast in just the dim, orange glow of the lamp. When (Y/N) looked back to him, she was still smiling, and Stiles savoured the sight. He had missed that smile so damn much.

He raised his hand to cup her face, grazing her cheek with his thumb. (Y/N) rose up a bit in response and moved closer to him, placing her own hand on his arm before leaning in.

Heat coursed through Stiles' body as they kissed, their current horizontal position adding a whole new element to the sensation. Stiles’ hand moved to (Y/N)'s neck but didn’t venture much further. (Y/N)’s, however, slid down his arm and back up, and then roved to his side, her fingertips leaving goosebumps on his skin in their wake.

Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, Stiles eventually made himself pull away. “We should get some sleep.”

(Y/N) practically pouted.

“Don’t give me that look,” Stiles said with a laugh. “You know I’m right.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Stiles said with a grin. “I’m gonna get the light, okay?”

(Y/N) nodded.

With one last look in her eyes, Stiles reached for the lamp.

She was back in the room.

When (Y/N)’s eyes flew open, they took in the barren, peeling, grey walls around her, and she knew in an instant where she was. She got to her feet and staggered forward, the chain around her ankle heavy, _so_ heavy. She managed one limping step before she tripped, falling face first into a window she hadn’t noticed before. She thrust her arms out in front of her and her splayed hands smacked against the glass, catching her fall.

She dragged her foot forward to regain her balance as she slid herself up the length of the huge window to peer through it. It looked into another room identical to the one she was in, except...

Lying curled up in the middle of the floor was... _Stiles_?

(Y/N) gasped, pressing her face to the glass to get a better look. He was beaten, eyes swollen, lips cracked and bleeding, and his clothes torn. She had to get to him, she had to -

But she froze in horror when Stiles stirred and the door behind him creaked open to reveal the silhouette of a man looming above him.

(Y/N) screamed but no sound came out. She pounded on the glass with all her might, but it was no use, he couldn’t hear her, he was going to -

“ _(Y/N), wake up!_ ”

(Y/N) jolted awake to see Stiles, utterly unharmed, staring down at her with wide eyes in the dim lamplight.

She was not in the room. No, here she was, tangled up in the covers of Stiles’ bed.

(Y/N) tried to catch her breath as she propped herself up on her elbow.

“It’s okay,” Stiles said, gripping her shoulder with one hand and brushing the hair from her face with the other. “It was just a dream.”

The door to the bedroom burst open then, and Scott, clad in nothing but his boxers, rushed in, his eyes glowing red and his claws out. Allison stood behind him in a robe, armed with her crossbow.

“Guys, it’s okay, she was just having a nightmare,” Stiles rushed to explain.

Scott and Allison’s stances relaxed slightly, and Scott’s eyes faded back to their natural brown hue.

“We thought - ” Allison said, still looking on edge as she took a step forward and inspected the room, not quite ready to lower her guard.

“Sorry for waking everyone,” (Y/N) said, feeling herself blush deeply.

“It’s okay,” Stiles said quickly, turning back to her.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Scott said. “We’ll let you get back to sleep. Night, guys.”

“Good night,” Allison said. Her expression was still wary, but she followed Scott out of the room and closed the door softly behind them.

“Are you alright?” Stiles said once they were alone again.

(Y/N) nodded. Her heart had stopped racing, and the lingering fear after being yanked out of the dream had mostly been replaced by embarrassment. “Has this been happening every night?”

“No,” Stiles said, shaking his head. But then he raised a quizzical eyebrow and looked to the ceiling. “Unless I’ve been sleeping so deeply that your screams haven’t woken me until now.”

At the look on her face, Stiles backpedaled.

“Kidding,” he said. “Is this the first nightmare you’ve had?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment. “I think so. I don’t remember any dreams from the past few nights.”

Stiles frowned. “Well... Maybe this is a good sign? Maybe it means that your brain is working through the memories or something.”

(Y/N) considered this. “Maybe...”

Stiles continued studying her - his eyes were soft, but concern was still apparent in his gaze. “Think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?”

(Y/N) shrugged, but made no move to settle back down onto the pillow.

“C’mere,” Stiles said, wrapping his arm around her torso, and gently leading her to lie with her back against him. He held her close but not too tight, and she allowed the warmth of his body to soothe her as she nestled back under the covers and attempted to block out the memory of his bruised body on the floor.


End file.
